


Blanket Confessions

by hanyou_elf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Incest, M/M, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 09:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanyou_elf/pseuds/hanyou_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just shut up and sit here, bitch."</p><p>Written for the Supernatural Reverse Big Bang on LJ.  My artist was the amazing siennavie!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blanket Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> **Fic Title:** Blanket Confessions  
>  **Author:** **Fandom/Genre:** Romance, Fluff, Angst  
>  **Pairing(s):** Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester  
>  **Rating:** Hard R, slight NC-17  
>  **Word Count:** 6,800  
>  **Warnings:** Incest; slight underage  
>  **Summary:** “Just sit here and shut up, bitch.”  
>  Author's Note: This wouldn't have been finished without the constant handholding from my Kettle or the beta by the same mewling quim. But, this was practically finished because zhem1x5 dared me too. And siennavie's art is adorable and so very sweet!

[ ](http://s1345.photobucket.com/user/siennavie/media/Big%20Bang%20Art/SPN%20RBB%202013-1/Banner_zps9160ef24.gif.html)

Dean was trying to hold it together. He was trying to keep his hands from shaking too much while he gripped the leather around the steering wheel too tightly. His knuckles were white in the glimpses of light from the street lights that sped past them. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he needed to be alone so he could fall apart. It was hard to breathe, hard to focus on what he needed to think about. 

He didn't even want to focus on being safe because it was a waste of his time. He knew that it would be. The dream root had reminded him of everything he'd been afraid to think about. He was terrified of what would happen to Sammy when he was taken to Hell. And he knew that his little brother wouldn't give anything up as the deadline grew nearer and nearer.

“Pull over,” Sammy ordered softly. His voice was thick with too many emotions. He squeezed the hand he'd put on Dean's thigh briefly as he nodded at the black expanse of farmland to the left. It was early summer, so crops weren't high and pregnant with the promise of nourishment. “Let's just... Just sit with me, Dean.”

-.-.-.-

[](http://s1345.photobucket.com/user/siennavie/media/Big%20Bang%20Art/SPN%20RBB%202013-1/Blanket_Confessions_2_by_siennavie_zps1add9b41.jpg.html)

Sammy is twelve years old and Dean a worldly sixteen. They are in a beautiful little hideaway town in the backwaters of Kentucky, in Appalachia country. There are trees and meadows, running brooks and hidden clearings. There are paths to explore and stories to tell each other while they forget about the stress of following their father around the country, hunting things that couldn't be spoken of in mixed company.

Dean's carrying his dad's military bag, has it slung over his shoulder so the strap crosses his chest and curls over his hip. He's learning that his body is more than just a weapon. He can use it for seduction and he can use it for a reward. Pleasure is an incredible motivator and Dean's excited for dad's training because it's given him a hard, lean body that's more enticing than the pubescent bodies of the boys in his class. He gets more looks- male and female- and more opportunities to explore just what he can do with the muscles and the endurance his dad has given him. He's more aware of his body than he has even been and, as much as it embarrasses him, he lives for the fleeting pleasure it gives him.

In his bag, he's got a black and red and orange patchwork blanket that he'd managed to put together over months of hoarding the best fabric. Sammy loves the blanket, though he'll never admit it. After today, he won't be able to use it until Dean gets to a laundromat but he thinks Sammy'll think it's worth it. And he just needs a chance to get Sammy away from his dad. They're like alpha wolves, bucking at each other trying to prove who number one is. It's embarrassing and frustrating; and it drives Dean insane.

But dad's on a hunt and Sammy is just his for now. And he's going to make sure that his little brother gets the best of the world, the best that he can give him. Even if he doesn't understand the significance of it. He knows the only thing that really matters to him is making sure that Sammy has the best of everything that he can offer. And right now, in these peaceful woods in the middle of nowhere, he can show Sammy that nature doesn't have to be scary. That he can find happiness in the woods and he doesn't always have to think about what might be hidden in them.

He calls a halt to their traipsing when they come to a neat circle of trees standing guard over a tranquil circle of cleared packed dirt. There are leaves decomposing against the roots of the trees they'd fallen from. Sunlight filters through emerald leaves, dust and dirt motes dance in the soft breeze that barely moves around them. It's idyllic and Dean's loved it since he found it.

“What're we doin?'” Sammy asks, his voice petulant and soft. 

“Relaxing.”

He drops dad's bag at the foot of a tree and pulls the blanket out with a flourish. He shakes it out of the neatly rolled fold and drapes it over the dry ground. It hasn't rained in days and the trees have saved the clearing from the worst of it all. He smiles at his handiwork and Sam's preteen scowl before he pulls the lunch he made out of leftovers: cold chicken and broccoli with melted knock off Velveeta cheese. It's only cheesy chicken salad and on moist bread, but it's got to be the thought that counts. He's also got a notebook and a pen and Sammy's book from school that he can't put down. He's an awesome big brother like that. 

“Is that my blanket?” Sammy asks with a grimace. He kicks his shoes off though and kneels on the blanket. It's a good day to be outside. It's not hot and it's not cool, it's a perfect summer day and Sammy rolls onto his back with a sigh, his long arms folded beneath his head as he turned his face to the dappled sunlight and closes his eyes. “You owe me a blanket, jerk.”

“Shut it bitch,” Dean orders before he imitates Sammy's pose. 

They're twelve and sixteen and in the early afternoon of a comfortable late summer day, they're just Dean and Sammy- normal teens escaping real life. 

-.-.-.-

Sam dragged the plaid blanket and a navy blue blanket to wrap around them both out of the trunk. He slammed the lid shut and led the way into the middle of the field, the navy blanket slung over his shoulders. He wasn't surprised when he heard Dean's door creak open and the back door opened. He turned to look over his shoulder and smiled at the sight of Dean dragging their small cooler out of the backseat floorboard. 

Even from a distance, as Sam spread the plaid blanket over clean fresh ground that smelled new and promising, he could see how Dean carried himself too tightly, too rigidly. He could see the strain in his brother's body, the way he was trembling, even as he pretended he was okay.

“Come on, jerk,” Sam called. He kicked his filthy shoes off and slid his muddy jeans down his long legs, knowing that Dean would look him up and down and take the movement as an invitation.

-.-.-.-

Dean worries. Probably more than he should, but he can't help himself. After he turned sixteen, their father started choosing jobs that took him further away from his sons or jobs that kept him for nearly a month. And he prefers to do them alone. 

It works for Sammy because he prefers the stability of staying in one place for as long as possible. He thrives on routine, and Dean's been able to give his brother that much. He's eighteen and on the cusp of adulthood and independence and bound to his brother starting high school.

Dean settles in his bed, the blankets low on his hips. One of the problems of living so closely together, so in each other's pockets, is that Dean rarely has time for himself. And during the months of Sam's blossoming maturity, he's been overwhelmed by how much of a man his brother is going to be. Sammy's going to be big and strong, huge hands and feet hinting at it. At thirteen, Sammy's as tall as Dean almost and his hair is floppy and his face is sincere and his body is defined by neverending training.

And Sammy's body is changing. He's sprouting hair and hormones and he's so confused by things. Dean does the best that he can, encouraging and supporting his little brother, even gave him the embarrassing talk about to treat a lady or a guy. He doesn't want Sammy to think it's not okay to explore every avenue, but he wants him to do it safely, smartly. 

Dean's been with both men and women, and the only one he'd gotten any kind of instruction for was women. Dad never had a big talk, it was only _"Wrap it up. Be good to her. Take it slow and touch everywhere. And don't ever not wear a condom."_ He'd been lucky the first guy he slept with had a kink for soft and slow. He'd fingered Dean open so long there had been tight slick friction when he'd finally started to fuck into him, but the anticipation had made it nothing but good. Dean had gone home afterward to research gay sex and find what had made being fucked in his ass something so good. 

It's hard at night in their small apartment. The walls are ridiculously paper thin and Dean can hear Sammy nearly every night. He doesn't know how to cut back the moans and curses that masturbation brings. And Dean, pervert that he is, can't stop himself from imagining what Sammy looks like, stroking his cock and teasing himself until he comes. He imagines Sammy does it with napkins close at hand to contain his mess, he's a neat boy. Imagines the garbage can close at his bed side is full of stiffened tissues, the stale smell of sex, and his embarrassment, because it's often covered over.

And imagining his brother masturbating turns Dean on more than it should. He buries his face in a pillow while he kneels and strokes his cock and plays with his asshole. He fantasizes about an older, well-endowed Sammy fucking him hard, dragging him across blankets and holding his hips hard for leverage. He always comes hard, spoiling an old t-shirt he's commandeered for a rag. And always, shamefully with Sammy's name on his lips.

-.-.-.-

The door to the car opened again and Dean leaned in to grab the cushions he kept in the backseat- perfect for pillows for the window on long road trips for whomever was riding bitch in his Baby. He sighed, knowing that Sammy would want to have a talk about feelings and about the fear he had for the coming few days. Dean was going to be dragged to Hell soon, his year was coming up and Sammy was getting desperate. 

There were bags under his eyes. A tremor in his usually steady hands. He was exhausted and he couldn't do anything about it, because he couldn't just give in. He had to be strong for Sammy, to show his brother that even though he didn't want to die, he couldn't stop what was going to happen. He'd finally come to terms with it on his own. 

Dean used his hip to push the door closed and closed his eyes as he took in Sammy's big body, stretched out on the blanket in his boxers and t-shirt. It was the furthest thing from his mind, but maybe he could distract Sammy enough with his body to make sure they didn't have to talk about their feelings, to talk about what got Dean so out of sorts. 

At the edge of the blanket, Dean dropped the cushions on Sammy's stomach and head with a snort before he toed his own shoes off before he knelt down on the comfort of the orange blanket. 

Dean didn't say a word as he stripped down and straddled Sammy on the soft blanket. He didn't have to work hard to get himself hard and the hazel eyes of his gigantic brother were unsurprised when he dropped a nearly empty bottle of lube beside them. He seemed resigned to the reality that Dean was going to demand sex and after all the fucking dream walking, he was going to have it. With Dean's sacrifice hanging over Sammy's guilt-ridden head, there would be no shortage of guilt-ing Sammy into whatever he wanted. 

Not that he'd do that anymore, much. 

He needed the connection he got from letting Sammy give them pleasure, letting Sammy make love to him. Sammy used him slow and gently, loving and sweet and nothing like the ruthless killer he'd been trained to be, that he would definitely need to be after.

He wasn't surprised when big hands widened their hold on his hips, pulled him close and bent him back enough for Sammy's lips to claim his. He moaned softly into the kiss and arched his back a little more gracefully as he clenched his thighs around Sammy, tight and strong and completely suggestive as he rolled his hips. "Sammy" he breathed between their lips. 

"I gotcha," Sammy promised. He pushed Dean's shirt up and over his head before laying him out on the faded fabric. "I gotcha," he murmured as he worshiped Dean's scarred, pale flesh.

-.-.-.-

[ ](http://s1345.photobucket.com/user/siennavie/media/Big%20Bang%20Art/SPN%20RBB%202013-1/Blanket_Confessions_by_siennavie_zps9ce0f965.jpg.html)

Sammy is out of school for the summer and dad's dropped them off with Pastor Jim in North Dakota. The Pastor has beautiful land, the world a natural complement to his small white walled two-story chapel. It's picturesque, gorgeous and relaxing and safe from supernatural disturbances. 

Dean won't admit it, but he loves it. Sammy thrives with Pastor Jim, learning the power of invocations and hymns. Words and spells meant for protection and strength that he would find no other lessons for without the Pastor. 

Dean's grateful they don't have to attend services every Sunday morning and get to sleep in, curled in their small beds in the small room of the Pastor's modest home. But the best thing about the land the Pastor owns is the few acres behind the church. There is a small grove of trees surrounding a pristine lake clear enough to see the bottom of in the middle of well-manicured emerald grass. The Pastor has a small vegetable garden on the other end of his property- corn, carrots, potatoes, squash, and lettuce- he makes them tend to, but other than that, he lets them be.

Dean drags the fading orange blanket out, a book for Sammy, and a small picnic lunch with sandwiches and apples for them both, and a six-pack of cokes. It's been awhile since they've had the opportunity to find someplace to just escape and Dean's going to reinforce just how okay it is to be normal once in a while. Pastor Jim demands they be back before dark and considering it's just before 11, it's like a free day pass. Sammy follows him like a puppy, carrying the six-pack with both hands like it weighs a ton. 

When they reach the middle of the grove, on the last stretch of packed dirt and jade grass, Dean stops. He smirks at Sammy before he drops the saran wrapped sandwiches on the ground beside the latest book he'd seen Sammy reading. He unfolds the blanket, old grass stained side down and toes his shoes off. He slides his jeans down his long legs and pulls the tee over his head before he's jumping into the clear cold water.

"Bring the cokes!" Dean orders before he pushes himself under water. It's cold enough to take his breath but it feels so good he can't help but surface and repeat. There are no fish in the pond and a hint of waterlilies clings to the furthest bank. It's a small, protected, piece of heaven.

Dean surfaces enough to watch Sammy stripping down to his boxer shorts, his clothes meticulously folded clothes piled on the edge of the blanket. He can even see the top of Sammy's socks draped out of his tennis shoes. Sammy's a funny kid, quirky about some things and stringent in others. 

He lets himself appreciate the beauty that is Sammy's body, hardened through rigorous training and aided by very good genes, as he tip toes his way to the edge of the water. His hazel eyes survey everything and before Dean can cross the pond to pull Sammy in, he's leaping to the center, curled up so his long legs don't hit the bottom.

They swim for hours, splashing and dipping below the crystal clear water, wrestling with each other until the sun moves halfway across the sky. Dean pulls himself out and shook the water from his body. He stretches out contentedly on the blanket., arms crossed behind his head, and closes his eyes. This is good, an earthly heaven he hadn't known he need-ed. He's been so busy studying obscure Latin texts, experimenting with equipment, and fixing up things around the Pastor's place, that he's forgotten to just relax.

Sammy's body is water cool when he drops down beside him on the blanket. He lies on his side, curling into Dean's body like he used to when they slept together, and Dean can't stop the dorky smile from spreading across his face. He loves his brother and he's missed quiet times with just the two of them together. He's going to have to have to take the time to make sure things change. He's going to have to make sure he doesn't lose his little brother.

He isn't prepared for the brush of lips against his cheekbone or the calloused hand across his neck in a gentle caress. He blinks before sitting up, looking down at his little brother. Sammy blinks up at him, large hazel eyes innocent and hopeful, but he knows that he has to fix this before they get too far. It's because there's nobody else around. It's Sammy's hormones and puberty, sending him hard and horny and desperate with every strong gust of wind. It's nature, taking over his body and encouraging him to do things that he shouldn't do, like kiss his big brother. They aren't excuses that would hold true for Dean, but for Sammy, who has no other experience, they do.

“Sammy,” he murmurs softly. He doesn't know what he's supposed to say to keep from hurting the younger teen. Doesn't know how to make it right, without embarrassing Sammy, without driving him away.

“I'm not a stupid kid,” Sammy growls. “I know... I like you, Dean. I _like you_ like you.” He surprises Dean and sits up, bringing them closer together. “I just... I don't know. You won't talk to me. You don't hang out with me. I was scared and I don't want to lose you too.” 

“You don't have to kiss me to keep me, Sammy,” Dean murmurs gently. He slides a hand through Sammy's wet hair, pushing it back from his face. “You don't. I'm not going anywhere.” 

“I wanted to kiss you though,” Sammy protests. “I wanna do more.” 

Dean's scared. He doesn't know how to handle Sammy's confession or his lean and shapely body writhing in his lap as he moves in short staccato bursts that only serve to remind Dean just how little Sammy actually knows. Virginity is hot but Dean's not taking Sammy's. They've been alone together for too long if Sammy thinks his broken big brother is a good option. They need time apart, need to separate and move in different circles, even if just thinking of doing so is almost a physical pain. 

Dean will give Sammy relief though. Because he's only human and he's dreamed and thought and wondered about what Sammy might feel like or taste like or even fuck like for so long, he can't pass up this chance. He pulls Sammy into his lap, pressing his chest against the long lines of his tanned back. With his big hands on Sammy’s slim body, he encourages him to lean back, to rest against Dean and let his big brother support him like he always will.

With a hand beneath his chin turning that trusting face the way he wants him to move, Dean groans as he presses his lips to Sammy's. A kiss, just this one time with his brother, not even more than a handjob, something to get him off and let it rest between them. Dean was perverted enough without trying to corrupt Sammy. 

Sammy's hard though, harder than Dean would have though and bigger than he'd imagined. He has a healthy handful and the depraved part of him wants to take him in his mouth, to taste Sammy hard and inflexible against his tongue. But he can't. Maybe he'll get picked up tonight and suck some cowboy off instead. 

"Dean," Sammy begs, rolling his hips awkwardly. He's braced in Dean's lap, facing out toward the lake, pressing back against Dean's chest as he rocked up into Dean's touch. It's erotic and hot and Dean wants to use this position to drive up through Sammy's body until he's buried balls deep and Sammy is screaming for release.

He restrains himself to humping up against the curve of Sammy's ass, showing him how to move with Dean as he's jacked. Dean kind of hates himself when he has to admit that masturbating Sammy is one of the hottest things he's ever done.

He grunts when Sammy, so young and such a virgin, arches against him with a gasped sigh as he comes, covering Dean's hand with the wet warmth of his own shame. But he doesn't let it stop him and before it can dry, he digs the wet hand into his own shorts, caressing Sammy's back as he masturbates, and comes in his pants like a teenager.

It's embarrassing and Dean is flushed and panting when he pushes at Sammy's relaxed body. "Back in the water bitch," he orders softly.

-.-.-.-

It didn't take much prep before Dean was ready. Not anymore. He and Sammy had been fucking for years now and his body knew Sammy's intimately. He grunted as he shifted in Sammy's lap, sliding lower on the thick cock he absolutely loved being filled with. 

He rolled his hips like a champion, his hands fisted behind Sammy's neck, tangled in the long strands as he moved. He pushed Sammy's cock deeper into his body and sobbed in relief when he moved, dragging the hard flesh out of his body. Slow repetitive movements that had Sammy thrusting up hard in counterpoint to Dean's submission to gravity. 

Dean could feel the tears on his cheeks as he moved and was grateful Sammy didn't mention them. He was embarrassed by his weakness. But each connection between their bodies, the press of pelvis to ass was enough to leave him trembling though he hid it in pleasure.

Sammy's big arms wrapped around his waist and he used the leverage to move Dean gracefully, worlds away from their fumbling first few times. He stroked his back, traced the seams of scars and the dents of missing flesh healed badly. 

He arched and it changed the angle of Sammy's cock in his body and Dean finally cried out. An involuntary noise that left him shaking as he rocked back, meeting Sammy's thrusts perfectly. Lined up, it was like they were made for each other: Dean's body and Sammy's. They filled up each other's hollow places. And Dean needed to take a break if he was romanticizing them so much. 

Orgasm caught him by surprise and Dean collapsed against Sammy chest, pushing his dick deeper, almost painfully so. He rested against Sammy, lax and content as he was pushed onto his back so Sammy had the leverage he needed to find his own orgasm. 

It was too good to be just used and Dean moaned and clenched his muscles and clung to Sammy to give him everything he wanted and needed. He wasn't surprised it didn't take long before Sammy thrust hard one last time before he came and collapsed against Dean's body feeling more solid than the ground beneath him.

-.-.-.-

“Hey Jude,” Dean sings softly as he drags a hand through Sammy’s hair. They don’t have much room in the back of the Impala, but Sammy’s long and lanky body is stretched across the bench backseat, his head cradled in Dean’s lap while he pants through the phlegm filled lungs. It’s been a long time since the last time Sammy was sick and he can’t remember being stuck in the car while Sammy was. They’d always had a place to hide away, some place warm and comfortable enough to just blanket Sammy in a soft nest of threadbare covers. 

In the trunk, the blanket they use for their escapes is folded and stored in the trunk, but they were forbidden from leaving the car, threat of the monsters stalking the forest dad had parked close to ever present. He wants to get out though, wants to find a way to comfort Sammy, but he can’t. Instead, he does what he knows that he can. He wraps his arms around Sammy’s body and pulls him upright, buries his forehead against Dean’s neck and ignores the hot panting of Sammy’s breath. He wants to go home, but there really isn’t a place that he could realistically call home, with the exception of the Impala. 

Sammy is quiet as he adjusts in Dean’s lap, curls his long legs to his chest and snuggles his head closer to Dean’s stomach. In another situation, if Sammy were feeling better, he’d be hard and rocking his hips up into Sammy’s face, demanding and insistent. But he’s got more respect for the sick.

He finds that he hates himself a little bit. He hasn’t touched Sammy the way he wants since the day by the lake, but he can’t stop thinking about the way Sammy looked, stretched out in his lap, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his mouth wide and his body pliant. He was perfect. But he can’t do that. So he’s been a good brother and he’s pushed Sammy into the arms of the girls around them, into their waiting hands and instructive bodies. And he’s watched the confidence that blossomed in Sammy’s body as he learned to pleasure. 

And he ignored Sammy’s branching out into men when it started. He wasn’t getting what he wanted from Dean, so he went searching, and while it was what Dean wanted, what he knew was best for Sammy, he hates himself for encouraging it. These boys and girls that Sammy’s been enjoying himself with, they got a part of him that Dean wanted and could never have. 

“Take a sad song and make it better,” Dean continues softly. He drapes his palm over Sammy’s forehead and closes his own eyes as he sings.

-.-.-.-

Dean groaned as he shifted under the dead weight of his brother. He didn’t feel twitchy anymore. He felt calmed and like the excessive adrenaline that he’d been desperately trying to keep under control had fled with the release of semen be-tween them. He breathed softly and knew that it was only a matter of time before his paranoia and higher brain functions returned, and with them, his terrified belief that being dragged to hell wouldn’t be enough to save Sammy’s dumb ass. 

“Dean,” Sammy murmured softly as he pressed a kiss to Dean’s neck. His touch was gentle and loving, and beneath the overarching night sky, it was overwhelming. He didn’t stop the burst of heat behind his eyes as Sammy’s hair shifted over his naked skin, tickling. It was intimate and romantic, almost too much for Dean. He licked his lips and blinked at the stars, twinkling in the sky above them, highlighted by the wispy few clouds that knocked a few out of view.

“Just, don’t talk,” Dean ordered. He closed his eyes and leaned into Sammy’s bigger body. He wanted to just stay here, curled in his brother’s protective arms and forget about the reality of what was going to happen. 

-.-.-.-

Dean doesn’t expect it when Sammy pulls him into his lap. He’s pulled onto his lap, legs spread as he adjusts to the sudden shift. He braces his hands on Sammy’s broad shoulders. There is a moment of vertigo and then he relaxes against this little brother’s big body. “Damn it, Sam,” Dean growls. 

“I’m old enough to know what I want,” Sammy murmurs softly. “And I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“I know,” Dean answered. Like he hasn’t watched Sammy, hasn’t encouraged him to explore his sexuality before coming back. Dean knows he’s not right, the sexual attraction he feels for Sammy, has felt for Sammy for so long, but he never wanted to infect his little brother with his wrongness. It’s why he encouraged Sammy to date, to sleep with the girls and boys of his class, to learn that he could have anything he wanted.

He tilts his body back, away from Sammy, and looks down at him. “Why? Didn’t find what you needed out there?”

“None of them are you,” Sammy shrugs.

Dean has to sigh and close his eyes. He can’t refuse this. He could, but he really doesn’t want to. There’s too much to gain from this- it’s everything he’s ever wanted. He licks his lips and nods slowly, as if there had been any doubts that one day Sammy would get what he wanted from Dean. 

“If we’re doing this,” Dean says softly. “We’re doing it my way. I know you’ve been with other men. I know you’ve got experience and whatever, but you’re going to let me do this my way. And it’ll be good.” 

Sammy only nods, accepting as he wraps his long arms around Dean’s waist. He smiles up at his big brother and it’s sweet and beautiful and Dean just wants to cry because what they’re going to do is dirty and wrong and so very bad. If anyone knew what they were going to do, he would be beaten within an inch of his life. He would never be left alone again. And he would never have Sammy again. 

He stands and Sammy lets him go, watching him with rapt brown eyes. There’s excitement in them and he’s pleased. He looks away from Dean for a moment and pushes himself up to standing, towering over Dean’s slightly shorter form. He hates being shorter than Sammy but he’d done a good job making sure the giant got everything he needed. 

“To the bedroom” Dean orders softly. He quirks his lips up into a grin and points as he watches Sammy obey. “Get naked, bitch!” 

Sammy flips him off and he laughs. It’s cute, his stubborn behavior, it’s normal. And after this, everything would change. 

Dean makes sure to lock the front door to the small studio they were staying in, leaves the front light on and drags his t-shirt over his head. He licks his lips again and looks around as he steels himself for going into the bedroom, and taking what he’s always wanted. 

Sammy is on his back, his legs spread just a little and his cock, thick and warm and hard, stands proud from the nest of curls toward his stomach. His head is on the pillows at the head of the bed and his eyes are hungry as he rakes his hazel eyes down Dean’s naked chest. He licks his lips and his mouth falls open just a bit as he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, long fingers meeting the base and stroking, slowly. Teasingly. He is tempting Dean and Dean couldn’t wait to touch.

He slides his jeans and boxers down his hips before he crawls into the bed. Dean spreads Sammy’s legs, pressing a kiss to knobby knees. He wants to take his time, to taste and touch and worship his brother’s skinny body, the lines of lean muscles that have developed under his skin. Sammy has the body of a runner or a swimmer and it’s beautiful. He pushes him-self up against Sammy’s hips, presses the length of his hard cock against Sammy’s and rocks his hips. He moves slowly, teasingly as he braces himself up over Sammy’s body. He grins at his little brother before he leans down and pushes their lips together, chaste and sweet before opening up and taking his brother’s mouth. His tongue slides between Sammy’s plump lips and tastes him.

Sammy’s arms wrap around Dean’s neck and he rolls his body, pushes himself against every inch of Dean that he can. Dean doesn’t close his eyes, taking in the softened features and thin skin of his brother’s eyelids. His hair is frizzy and wild around his head and his cheeks are pink with a blush. He’s adorable and Dean can’t wait to touch him everywhere. He pushes himself down, draping his heavy body over Sammy’s, kissing him as he buries his fingers in Sammy’s hair, tracing his other hand over Sammy’s naked body.

Dean groans as he rolls his hips, a teasing movement he hopes entices and excites. It's been awhile since he was last with a man and it's not that he forgot what to do, it was that it’s Sammy, and he wants everything to be perfect. He doesn't want to regret anything they're doing, has never regretted anything he's done with Sammy before. 

He wraps a hand around their cocks, both hard and slick and pressed close together for the first time. His hips buck forward into the touch and it feels like heaven. His tongue slides into Sammy's mouth, tangling with his tongue, tasting him completely. It's a pale imitation of what they'll be doing eventually, but it's enough for the moment. 

He uses the hand he's been touching Sammy's lithe body with to pat the bed, looking for the bottle of lube and the condom packet that he just knows his Boy Scout brother set out. When he finally gets his hand around the slender tube, he breaks their kiss to grunt a victorious noise. 

Sammy scoffs and Dean, feeling slighted because of it, pulls away from Sammy's body, leaving the warmth and shivering at the rush of cool air against his naked body. Dean smirks and shimmies down the bed to kneel between Sammy's knees.

He swallows Sammy to the root, throat convulsing around the sudden intrusion. It's hot and there's a burst of salt from the sweat of Sammy's skin, the slick of pre-come as it dribbles from his slit. He swallows around the choking sensation, his throat working the tip as flips the cap on the lube open. 

He isn't sure which way Sammy prefers, only knows he likes the sensation of being filled, the way it invades every cell of his body, leaving him sated and exhausted and incredibly pleased. His body hums as he adjusts his stance, bent in half on his knees for his little brother. He can't wait to have the hard length pressing into him.

He bobs his head, letting Sammy go to the tip before swallowing him back down again, keeping his rhythm even as he pushed two fingers as deep as he could into himself. He disguises the grunt penetration causes with a soft hum, steadying himself as Sammy bucks against him.

He slides a third finger into his body with a soft noise as he swallows Sammy down to the root again. It is hot and filling and too damn good to focus properly. He adjusts his position, crouching over himself as he pushes his fingers deeper into him-self, as deep as he can. He blinks up his brother’s body, smirking around the hard length in his mouth as he takes in Sammy’s arched back, his hazel eyes clenched eyes and his lips parted as he pulls at the sheets beneath his body.

He pulls his fingers free and sits up, licking his lips as the obvious proof of his arousal strains upwards towards his stomach. It lifts from his carefully maintained patch of hair. With a smirk on his face he slides his calloused hands up the surprisingly soft hair of Sammy’s legs, the condom in his hands as he pulls the foil packet open. He pinches the tip a little above Sammy’s Dick before he’s rolling it down, his hand a hard grasp around the scorching flesh. He crawls up Sammy’s body, wrap-ping his hand confidently around the base of his dick, slicking the rest of the lube on his fingers and palm along his dick and bracing himself above the firm length. He groans as he positions himself above his brother, watching the shock flit across his handsome face before he leans down and takes Sammy’s lips, a slow kiss that leaves him wanting and hungry and desperate for more, staring up at Dean like he had set the moon. 

Dean doesn’t give him any warning before he shifts above his brother, his cock where it needed to be before he slides down, letting the thick length fill him for the first time. His back arches as he moves, allowing little time for adjustment be-fore he finally stops, ass against the thick muscles of his thighs. Sammy’s hands come up to wrap around his hips and hold him steady as they move together, a concerted effort and rhythm that they fall into. It’s as easy as it always is with Sammy, with them working together like they always do. It feels like everything he’s ever wanted and Dean lets himself fall into the overwhelming pleasure. 

Sammy’s eyes are closed as he lifts his hips to meet Dean’s movements, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He’s lost in the pleasure, and Dean loves the power that it gives him. He pushes his hips down and meets the lift of his little brother’s body, riding the instinctive moves he makes. Sammy’s whole body is trembling, and Dean wants nothing more than to take care of his little brother. He leans back, pressing a hand on the muscles of Sammy’s thighs and wraps a hand around his own cock, stroking in time with his hips movements over Sammy’s cock. It’s hot, he thinks. Better than anything else he’s done. 

It doesn’t take long before he’s close, balls pulled up tight and he knows he’ll be spilling over Sammy’s stomach. He squeezes his muscles and arches his back and relishes the hungry moan that Sammy lets loose. The big hands on his hips tighten and pull him down and he moans at the frozen jerking movements from Sammy. He cries out in pleasure, his head thrown back into the pillow as he came. He fills the condom and a part of Denis sad that he doesn’t get to feel the slick and slide of Sammy’s come as it fills him, as it slides out of him as he stands, relishing the feel of Sammy’s pleasure. 

Dean shifts and sit back, the softening length of his brother settling hot and uncomfortable within him and Dean wraps a hand tight around his cock and strokes, taking himself in hand and pushing himself to the edge, to the conclusion he’s desperately seeking.

Shock and something he can’t name courses through him and he grunts as Sammy forces himself upright, wraps his big body around Dean’s. He’s taller and filling out more than Dean could have ever hoped for (makes going without for Sammy worth so much more to see him so healthy and big and good). He arches his body back when Sammy’s lips meet his and his hand wraps around Dean’s and takes up the quick paced rhythm. With their hands together, it doesn’t take long and Dean’s shooting between their bodies, coating their stomachs as he breaks the kiss to breathe in relief between them as he rides the overwhelming wave of pleasure.

“I love you Dean,” Sammy murmurs against his mouth as he shudders through aftershocks.

Dean can’t breathe and he whispers back, hoarse and rough, “me too, Sammy.”

-.-.-.-

[ ](http://s1345.photobucket.com/user/siennavie/media/Big%20Bang%20Art/SPN%20RBB%202013-1/siennavie_SPN_zpse3541908.jpg.html)

Dean groaned as he shifted in Sammy’s hold. His brother was bigger and stronger and smarter than Dean had ever hoped for. He was impressed by the way he’d grown, relieved to know that when he was gone, Sammy would be able to protect himself. That he would be able to survive. 

He’d already gotten a promise from Ellen and Bobby to have them look after his brother when he was taken. Sammy was just needy enough to know that he would have to spend time with people who would help him mourn and it wouldn’t hurt so much if Sammy could rely on their distractions. Maybe it would be enough to keep him on the straight and narrow. To keep him a good guy.

“I have… I have to teach you how to take care of the Impala,” he said finally into the cool air. “Make sure you take care of the girl right.”

“You have to let me save you Dean,” Sammy begged.

“I can’t lose you. And that’s it,” Dean said. “You’re good. You’re worth it. And I will never regret my choice. I love you, and this is how I’ll save you.”

“Dean,” Sammy whined. 

“No more talking,” Dean ordered. “Just sit here and shut up, bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sammy answered as he wrapped his arms tight around Dean and looked up into the clear night sky.

[](http://s1345.photobucket.com/user/siennavie/media/Big%20Bang%20Art/SPN%20RBB%202013-1/Blanket_Confessions_TheEnd_by_siennavie_zps6251340a.jpg.html)  



End file.
